Good coaches know what goal really is

Sunday

I know you are probably thinking I did something really fabulous like hopped aboard a Lear jet to Tahiti or flew to Rome for dinner.

Wrong!

I was in Durham for a PeeWee hockey tournament watching 11- and 12-year-old boys and a few girls skate around the big ice of the Whittemore Center.

It had been years since I'd been to a youth sporting event. I have spent countless hours in gymnasiums all over New England. I've manned many a concession stand, baked batches of fat, chocolate whoopie pies bulging with cream for the fundraisers and sold truckloads of soda, candy, popcorn and potato chips for the cause.

I was a sports mom for my two daughters who were on plenty of teams as they were growing up. They tried just about everything — figure skating, dance, basketball, softball and volleyball. But the girls are all grown up now and I no longer have calluses on my rear end from sitting so long on bleacher seats. I've virtually retired my whoopie pie recipe, though to this day some fans still beg me to bake a batch.

So what in the world was I doing inside at a PeeWee hockey tournament on a beautiful Saturday afternoon? Having the time of my life, that's what.

I'd forgotten how thrilling it is to watch children hone an athletic skill. And I'd never seen youth hockey before. That's a sport my daughters never played. Though I'm a University of New Hampshire alum and fan of the Wildcat hockey team, I'd never spent any time watching children play the game until last Saturday.

I was there to watch a friend of the family skate for the Rochester Blackhawks and had the best seats in the house, right behind the Blackhawk bench. It was the perfect spot to view the coach's style. There are horror stories about every youth sport, but I must admit, over the years I have heard more of those stories about youth hockey. So I was interested and glad I had a good seat to see for myself.

The team, dressed in what looked like spankin' new red and black hockey jerseys faced a much weaker team in the first game. Even though it was clear from the outset who would win, Blackhawk Coach Jay White kept right on talking. He talked and talked and talked through three full periods of hockey.

Just about everything he said was positive. When he signaled for the players to change lines or made a substitution, he said "good job" to each player as they came off the ice. And he continually took the children aside to give them pointers about how to better play their positions.

The real test came in the second game when the Blackhawks went up against a superior Dover squad. You could see the difference in skill level as soon as they took to the ice. To his credit, Coach White didn't change his demeanor. He kept talking, talking, talking through the whole game, instructing his troops and keeping them revved up, despite the fact that there was no way they could win.

Coach did get upset a couple of times in Game 1 when one of his players was hogging the puck. "He keeps wanting to take it all the way on his own," I heard coach complain to his assistant. "We'll have to sit him down and talk to him about that." And they did. Coach explained that such behavior will never get the team to where it wants to go.

Another thing Coach White said really impressed me. On a number of occasions he would ask a player, "Are you having fun, Bud? That's what we're here for, to have fun." Eleven and 12-year-olds need such reminders. They can forget it's supposed to be fun. They get wrapped up in winning, in pleasing their coaches, their parents, or their big brother watching in the stands. And they worry about all the mistakes — the fact that they missed a perfectly easy pass or a sure goal.

Despite being able to skate circles around most of us, they don't yet possess all the skills they need to play at a high level and that's OK. They are just children. They are like 6-month-old puppies romping and frolicking with great speed and agility, but sometimes still falling flat on their faces.

Coach White understands this and the kids on his team are very lucky. Not every kid has such caring and supportive mentors. I remember my daughters had some great coaches along the way and some not so great. They had their share of the screamers, the name-callers and the ones who lost all control and threw furniture around. The ones who helped the most, the ones they remember, were patient and positive.

I have a feeling the kids on the Rochester Blackhawks will remember Coach White for years to come. And someday when these little Blackhawks grow up and do the coaching they will ask, "Are you having fun, Bud?"

Mary Pat Rowland is the managing editor of Foster's Daily Democrat. Her column appears every other Sunday in the Homelife section. Her e-mail address is mprowlandfosters.com.

Never miss a story

Choose the plan that's right for you.
Digital access or digital and print delivery.